


I Don't Think About You Anymore

by BigDumbBara



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Heavy Drinking, Implied Relationships, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 07:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigDumbBara/pseuds/BigDumbBara
Summary: Soldier: 76 is alone in the desert and ghosts from his past haunt him. He'll never admit that Gabriel Reyes was still on his mind even after all these years.Inspired by this twitterpost.Please support the artist!





	I Don't Think About You Anymore

I thought I was over the night sweats paired with nightmares.

  _I don't think about you anymore..._

  I roll onto my left side, curled around my Heavy Pulse Rifle. I adjust my head on my left arm folded under me, trying to get comfortable again as I press my back against the wall that was blocking the wind for me. Falling asleep on the ground of a flipped onto its side semi truck cargo container that had been long since abandoned was nothing new for a soldier who was used to living a life of war. It's just a part of the mission, a part of being what the media called a "vigilante." But there wasn't much to complain about; I work, I sleep, I eat, and I drink when I want to. No longer do I have to jump through legal hoops, no longer do I have to wait for higher ups permissions, and no longer do I have to wait at the worst possible moment to move in for the mission. Now, I can do what I like, I can make a move before the issue gets any worse or it's too late.

  A sound rustles about 60 yards away and immediately my eyes are wide open, gun pointed in that direction and I'm on high alert. I turn on the night vision on the tactical visor, I scan the area surrounding the source of the sound. In times like this, things slow down and speed up simultaneously; I'm reminded that I am alive, that my body still wants to survive. I used to love the feeling. Now... It's just instinct, an old habit that my body remembers. A soldier never forgets, even an old one.

  After deciding that nothing was there, I sit up, too awake to fall back asleep. I set the Heavy Pulse Rifle to my right on the ground that was my bed just moments ago. Pulling my backpack out from beside me with my left hand, I bring it into my lap. Still using the night vision, I dig around in the backpack until I feel the familiar feeling of a whiskey bottle. I pull off the tactical visor, revealing my scarred face taking a deep and slow breath to fill my lungs. I let out a small chuckle to myself. Guess an old man can still get spooked from time to time.

  I unscrew the cap of the bottle, bringing the cool glass to my dry lips as the harsh liquid is poured into my mouth, warming me up. A gentle grimace spreads across my face and I gently growl from the harshness of the booze. That first sip will always have a bite and I will never tire of it. I take a few more gulps and the warmth spreads through me. My body begins to buzz and I can feel myself begin to relax. I lean my head back onto the side of the truck walls and I gently just listen to the sounds outside as I close my eyes. I take another few gulps, there's this... feeling that I just can't shake. Like... I'm not alone. But no one can get past my traps. I triple checked them just to be sure too. I'd hear them long before they could get to me. So what's with this feeling?

  I take even bigger gulps than before and I'm really starting to feel more than a buzz settle into my body. I close the bottle, chuckling bitterly to myself. This was much better. The whiskey always keeps the dreams away, I can probably sleep better with this now. I close my eyes once again and begin to relax into the wall, feeling the heaviness of my body take over. Just as I was about to fall asleep, a familiar hand was on my shoulder and brushed across my chest. My body suddenly flinches, my eyes shoot wide open, hands instinctively grabbing my gun and I'm looking around at the empty truck bed.

  _I don't think about you anymore..._

  I can smell his cologne, I can feel the ghost of his hand on my chest just like back in the day, before the incident in Switzerland. You don't forget these things. My body learned his. This old dog will never forget a single detail about him. I'll never forget the way the left side of his mouth curves up higher than the right side when he's smiling. The way he rubs the side of his index finger across his mustache when he was uncomfortable or flustered. I've known him. I know how he moves, I know how he thinks, and I know... he's not dead. And even if he's not dead, he's still haunting me.

  If I survived, then he had to as well. Gabriel had to... he taught me everything I know on how to survive in a war. He was my senior officer, my mentor, my partner, my friend.... my lover. I let out a slow sigh as I realise that it's all in my head. There was no way he would find me here of all places. Of course I'd be alone in the middle of this God forsaken desert, no one would be looking for me here. Alone... That's how I always will be for the rest of my life... Alone. No more missions, no more trusting someone to have my back. I would be alone through this lifestyle. Never to trust, never to feel at ease ever again. God I'm so tired. I sigh again, head rolling to the side as I begin to relax more into the wall of the flipped truck container. Thank god for whiskey to dull the memories. I grab the bottle again, opening it and taking another gulp.

  _I don't think about you anymore..._

  Now I'm drunk. The feeling of Gabriel still lingers around me. Why did it all have to end like this? I still remember the feeling of his arm wrapped around me as the building exploded. Even when he was so upset with me, even when he was trying to remove me from my position in Overwatch forcibly, he still cared about me enough to try to protect me from the blast. I saw that look in his eyes. He didn't mean for this all to end up like this. Or was that just me having hopeful thinking? I sigh once again. It's the past, there's nothing I can do to change it and my own feelings for Gabriel should remained buried in that empty grave with my name on it.

_I don't think about you anymore..._

  I can't afford the distraction. I can't think about all the reasons I fell in love with you. I can't think about all the happy times, the sad times, and the bad times... I just can't do it. I have to remain detached. You helped build these walls up, I can't let memories of you tear them down. I can't think about how you picked me up when I was down, how you always had my back... And what did I do? I took a position that was rightfully yours. I put a wedge between us. I started our downfall.

  I wipe at my misting eyes. He's still here, still around me. I can feel him. I make an attempt to get up onto my feet, grabbing my Heavy Pulse Rifle. I walk out, looking around, unable to see much in the darkness of this moonless night. I stand there alone, closing my eyes, listening to the sounds of the desert night. And there he is, wrapping his arms around my body from behind. I lean into his body and suddenly I stumble onto the ground. A bitter laugh leaves me as I just lay there, half in the container, half out.

  _I don't want to think about you anymore..._

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for this fandom, or that I've ever posted online in general. I usually keep my fics I write to myself. But I would love some constructive criticism. So please leave comments!  
> If this fic does well enough, I'm probably going to write one from Gabriel's perspective.


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